4
ELI
The next morning I'm up before dawn, running perimeter checks around the cabin while Traci sleeps. Zeke's meeting starts in a couple hours.
Inside, I start coffee and check my phone. Text from Zeke sent early:
Meeting moved up. Federal task force arriving early.
I respond:
Bringing Traci. Need secure room and Rebecca Macintosh.
His reply comes fast:
Back office ready. Rebecca's on her way.
Traci emerges from her room around seven wearing the same oversized sweatshirt she's claimed as armor. Moves to the window without looking at me, takes up her usual position watching the forest.
Routine's simple. I make breakfast. She eats some of it. We don't talk because she won't and I don't waste breath on words that won't land. She's still breathing. Still here. That's enough.
"We're going into town this morning," I tell her while scrambling eggs. "Meeting at the sheriff's office about security. Rebecca will be there. You'll stay with her in a back room while I handle the briefing."
Traci turns from the window. Looks at me. Pulls out her notebook.
Do I have to see people?
"No. Just Rebecca. The rest of us will be in a different room."
She nods once. Acceptance without panic.
The drive into Glacier Hollow takes longer than usual. I vary the route, check mirrors, watch for tails. Traci sits quietly in the passenger seat, backpack on her lap, watching the forest give way to scattered buildings.
Glacier Hollow's sheriff's office sits on Main Street between the post office and a building that used to be something else. Small-town law enforcement with just enough space for Zeke's operation. I park out back instead of front, scan for threats out of habit, find nothing but quiet morning routine.
Rebecca's waiting by the back entrance. She sees us pull in, gives Traci a small wave.
"Hey, Traci." Rebecca's got that calm presence that probably comes from years working with trauma survivors. "Brought some books if you want to read. We've got a quiet room set up."
Traci gets out of the truck without hesitation. Follows Rebecca inside without looking back at me. Progress.
Inside, Zeke's waiting in the hallway. "Back office is secure. Door locks from inside."
I watch Rebecca lead Traci down the hall to a small office. Door closes. Lock clicks.
"She okay with this?" Zeke asks.
"Better than leaving her alone at the cabin." I turn toward the conference room. "Let's get this done fast."
Zeke set up a conference room. Big table, coffee pot, whiteboards covered in maps and timelines. Rhys is already there, along with two people I don't recognize. Federal badges on their belts. FBI.
"Eli Vance." The older agent stands, extends his hand. "Special Agent Emmett Briggs, FBI. This is Special Agent Joanna Koss. We're part of the team handling the trafficking investigation. US Marshals briefed us on your niece's situation before we flew in."
Handshake's firm, and I measure them both. Briggs has the look of someone who's worked organized crime for years—controlled posture, eyes that catalog everything, handshake firm without being performative. Koss is younger but carries herself like she's seen enough to know better than to make assumptions. Hiking boots under professional slacks. Practical choice for someone who might need to move fast.
At least they're not idiots. Doesn't mean I trust them.
"We need to coordinate protection protocols," Briggs says. "The Marshals indicated there may be active surveillance in the area."
